The Seventh Avenger
by Wings236
Summary: Harry has enough. He steps into the Veil but instead of death there is a whole new world waiting for him. He finds new friends, new love and a new purpose.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own the Avengers. I am merely playing with the characters.**

Prologue

"I'm sorry" Harry whispered. He knew that he was alone in the large room and that there would be nobody to hear his last words he needed to say it non the less. He let the events of the last five month ran through his head one last time.

After everything was over, the Dark Lord Voldemort dead and the last remaining Death Eaters imprisoned Harry had started to get his affairs in order. It wasn't that he had expected anything to happen but after the Horcrux had been removed everything had seamed to become a lot clearer. He knew that in order to live his life he needed to know what exactly his future was build upon. One thing he needed to do in order to figure those things out he had needed to meet with his account manager at Gringotts. It was a lucky coincident that the goblins had forgiven him, Hermione and Ron after they had found out what it was they had broken in for. Of course they still had to pay for the damage the dragon had made but after that had been dealt with the matter was all but forgotten.

In the meeting with Griphook, his account manager and the first goblin he had ever met, had given him a history of all withdrawals ever made from his trust vault or the family vault of the Potter family. It was like a punch in the gut when he found out that the same people he had considered his family had in fact stolen from him. It was nearly a million Galleons Hermione, Ron, Molly and Ginny had taken from his various vaults. And that wasn't counting all the books and heirlooms had found there way into the possession of those four. Of course there was a little consolation that neither Arthur nor the twins had taken anything from him. It wasn't the fact that they had taken the things in the first place that had been the reason for his feeling of betrayal. As it stands he would have given them everything they had asked for if they had asked for it. It was the fact that these payments had started way before he had met any of them.

After this revelation he had started to re-evaluate everything that had happened to him. He started to question every decision made, every word spoken and every feeling felt. But he had only gotten two weeks of solitude in Grimmauld Place 12 with Kreacher before Hermione and Ron stood in his bedroom. It took all he had not to grab his wand and start hexing them immediately. Instead he calmly got up from his bed and made his way into his wardrobe. Closed he came back out but still he didn't say a word to the two traitors. As a matter of fact he ignored them completely until what Ronald said penetrated his mind. "... Ginny can't plan your wedding all by herself." Harry dropped his cup of tea. The scolding hot liquid spraying everyone standing in the kitchen but Harry didn't feel the burns on his hands. Instead he rounded on the two thirds of the Golden Trio his face blank. "She is planning our wedding is she?" he said his voice void from any emotion. "Whatever gave her the idea I wanted to get married?" He never waited to hear the answer that Ronald seam to blurt out. Instead he pulled the account history out of his pocket and threw it on the tabletop. The colour drained from both Hermione and Ron's faces. "What? You didn't think I was ever going to find out did you? Really from Ronald I was expecting this level of stupidity but you Hermione? What happened to being the brightest witch our age?" He didn't give them any possibility to explain themselves. He had Kreacher throw them out and realised something. What did he have to live for? What was there in his live that would give him any reason to stay?

So now here he was. Standing in front of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. One would think that after the events of his fifth year the security to this particular room would be stronger but in reality it was ridiculously easy to reach the deepest level of the Ministry of Magic. He had already said his goodbyes to all those that he held dear but his mind was made up. But he didn't really know what would happen to him once he crossed the threshold of the veil. That was why he had all his possessions in his pocket. His closes and books in a multi compartment trunk like the one the fake Moody had used., all heirlooms and his money in a bottomless pouch converted to Muggle money just to be on the safe side. The only things that weren't packed away were his wands, the rings on his finger and the silver shimmering invisibility cloak thrown over his shoulders. His Holly wand with the Phoenix feather core was strapped to his forearm in a newly acquired wand holster, the Elder wand which had come back to him even after he had broken and thrown it away was held firmly in his hand. The rings on his fingers were relatively new. There were of course the Potter and Black Lordship rings but there was one which didn't really fit the picture. It was a silver ring with a familiar black stone. This two lay on his bedside table one day.

He shot one last look over his shoulder before he turned back around took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He than took a determined step forward and embraced the dark oblivion that was the Veil of Death.

It was as if all his troubles just faded away into nothingness. Everything he had ever worried about seamed to loose its significance. But everything was getting to be clear and he managed to analyse what he had just done in a logical matter. Of course he was sad that it had come to this but somehow he knew that he had made the right decision.

" **Well, you are coming here a little bit earlier than I had expected.** " said a voice behind him. Just from hearing the voice you couldn't possibly tell if male or female and even though he knew that the figure was standing behind him the voice resonated around the whole area. It was still dark but when Harry turned around to the figure standing behind him the darkness lessened and Harry was able to see. There was indeed a figure standing behind him. It seamed to radiate darkness, the shadows clinging to it like a cloak. The only thing you could make out from it's face were the eyes. They were green glowing orbs, the same colour as the killing curse. Harry could to nothing as a shiver ran down his spine as he felt the power coming from the man opposite him. He swallowed and mustered up all his Gryffindor courage. "Who are you? And why were you waiting for me?" he asked but he tried not to sound as if he was too demanding. The being in front of him just chuckled. " **Well, I go by many names. The one most people would use is Death. Of course I was waiting for you, Master.** " Harry raised his eyebrows at the title but tightened the grip on the Elder Wand nearly unconsciously. "So there is some truth on the story then?" Death leaned to his side and a staff appeared in his hand. Even though you weren't able to see his face you could see that there was a pensive look on it. " **Isn't there always? You just have to find the truth in the fiction. Well, that is the case in most things in live isn't it?** " To say that Harry was confused was an understatement. This wasn't what he imagined Death to be like. But he knew that just because you had a preconceived notion of someone there was no guarantee that this person is exactly like you would imagine. So he just asked: "Why were you waiting for me?" He didn't need to ask how he came to be Death's master. He too didn't need to know why it was him that had earned the title it was just something else that fell to him without anyone asking him.

" **Yes, I did say that didn't I? Let's see: Your life has been manipulated and screwed with since the night you were born. So Fate and I made a deal. We just needed to wait until you died.** " Harry nodded. This was exactly the conclusion he had come too after he had had the meeting with Griphook. But still he was somewhat wary. A deal? He had no other option than to ask. " **Ah, yes. 'I should probably tell you. Your life was not the one that Fate hat intended for you. But when we finally had the possibility to intervene it was already to late. So all other options we might have had went down the drain. There is only one chance we have to finally gift you with the life you should have had.** " Harry was strangely moved with the consideration of the two entities. He got a second chance. "What does this second chance entail? Are there any things I need to know to make the best of this opening?" Death nodded again. It was hard to make out if he actually nodded or if it was just the movement of the shadows gravitating towards him. Harry found out that they would not send him back to his old world but that he would be able to start over in an entirely new universe. There would be nobody who would know his name. There would be nobody who could do magic just as he did. But he would not be the only one who could do things that the general public couldn't do. Harry was okay with that. Sure, if anyone would find out that he would be able to do things that would break all laws of physics it would be over with his new found anonymity but he was sure that that wouldn't be a problem. After all he had to hide the fact that he was a wizard for seventeen years now.

It didn't take long for Harry and Death to iron out all there was to this new opportunity to life his life to the fullest. Harry didn't know how long it had been since he had stepped into the Veil but when all was said and done all he had to do was close his eyes. He heard a whispered goodbye from the dark entity. When Harry opened his eyes again it was to a thoroughly different world.


	2. Chapter 1

**I am absolutely overwhelmed how well my story was received. I would have never guessed, so thank you and keep doing what you are doing. Please tell me what you think along the way.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Avengers.**

Chapter 2

The _Incendio_ had opened just half a year previously but it had already attracted quite the crowd of regulars. It was a well liked establishment which was well known not only for good food and coffee. It was also a place where you could get something to drink in the evening. If you talked to the costumers they never saw anyone other than the owner, a young man witch messy black hair and striking green eyes, no matter how crowded the place got. The young man, known as Harry Potter-Black was known to always be friendly and to always have an open ear. Even during the morning rush he never seemed to loose his good mood.

Three years after Harry had entered this fabulous new world his life in New York City was good. He had a nice apartment on the Upper East Side with a nice view on Central Park and he finally managed to realize his dream. Ever since he had to start cooking for his Aunt and Uncle he had revelled in the solitude of the kitchen. The monotony of mixing the varying ingredients had a soothing effect on his then constantly spinning mind. For him the time in the kitchen was an occasion where he just had the in comparison small worry if the dinner was going to be appetizing. So, once Death gave him the opportunity to live a life of his own design he jumped at the possibility. Back in Britain, or rather his Britain he would never have gotten the chance to do this. He would have gotten problems with all sorts of people who would try to push him into their ideas what he was going to be like. Of course he still used his magic. There was no way he would let occasional accidental magic destroy the first time he had lived in relative anonymity since entering the wizarding world at age eleven. Harry shook himself from his thoughts when one of his regular costumers stood in front of the cash register. "Hello Phil, what can I do for you?" The man in front of him looked like one of the early risers on his way to an uncomfortable chair behind an ordinary desk stacked with paperwork. He was wearing an average suit but no tie. His shows looked classy but Harry himself new that they were designed for people spending a lot of time on his legs. Harry had never asked Phil where it was that he worked. All he needed to know was that Phil entered his café every morning on his way to work. "Morning Harry. I need two large coffees. Both straight black. Any maybe something to eat." Harry nodded and wrote it down on his notepad. "So the usual than?", he asked with a cheeky grin on his face. Phil just smiled and nodded. When Phil left not even ten minutes later Harry went back to his thoughts. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to the people he had left behind. He knew that he just needed to turn the black stone in the silver ring he still wore on his right hand but somehow he never had the strength to reopen that chapter of his life. Of course just because he didn't want to ask the powerful entity what had happened to the traitors the thought never really left his mind. It was always there in the back of his mind, like an itch that one just could not reach.

But, even in this new life were things that just didn't work in his favour. No matter what he did he just couldn't find someone with who he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. Oh it wasn't that he never had dates or even one or the other one night stand. It was just that every woman he met had some sort of attribute that reminded him of the people he had left behind. One's hair was the same shade of red Ginny's was. Another's eyes were the same colour as Luna's. A thirds teeth reminded him of Hermione before she had them shrunk by Madame Pompfrey after that tasteless prank by Malfoy. So no matter how hard he tried to forget about these things his eyes always strayed back to them. As a conclusion he still had to meet that one woman who wouldn't trigger some sort of flashback. Of course it didn't matter if he got one at work. He was that far into a routine that he nearly did all the steps in his sleep. But against the widespread opinion it was not at all tiresome. As a matter of fact he indulged himself in those moments where he just didn't have to thing about the steps he took. For him it was an indicator that he had done the right thing to invest a portion of his inheritance into this place. Still, the inability to connect with someone one a deeper level than his customers left some kind of permanently ache behind. For him it was only the fact that he did some good for himself in this new world that stopped him from regretting the deal Death and Fate had struck for his sake. Of course he didn't become selfish once he had left behind his past. No, after a few well placed investments in various enterprises and the well going restaurant he had enough money going into his bank account that he could donate generous amounts to different organisations. As a matter of fact he was invited to a Gala from one such organisations on this Friday's evening. It wasn't the first time that he had to close his café for one such event but he just couldn't afford someone looking deeper into the happenings behind his counter. The kitchen was the only place where nobody was ever allowed to go. This might seam strange for some people but the fact that he was cooking all the meals he sold with magic to speed things up would put a damper to all collaboration. But what he didn't know was that this night would change his life for a second time.

There was just one thing in which Harry indulged himself. He had always had an affiliation with speed but since he couldn't very well fly on his broom over a busy city like New York City. But once he had taken a look at the cars driving by his dream he knew what would be his replacement. So it was a black Porsche 918 spyder that drove up to the location of one of New York City's most interesting social functions. Harry never had liked the indulgence of reporters but he knew that they could make or break a person and he really didn't want any bad press. So he fixed a charming smile on his face and got out of his car. He was blinded by the bright flashes of cameras almost immediately but his smile never wavered. Even thou he was relatively new to the scene of the rich and beautiful, he was already hailed as the new sensation. He was the new most wanted bachelor due to the fact that he always kept his cards close to himself. There was not much that the general public knew about him but Harry wasn't worried that anyone would find anything unusual in his past. He didn't know how Death did it but he somehow managed to draft a whole past for the wizard. To everyone looking he was a young orphan, born and raised in Britain who had inherited the family fortune at age seventeen when it became apparent that he had the needed level of responsibility to manage a fortune such as his. So it was with this certainty that he confronted the usual questions and demands of the reporters. To Harry's happiness it didn't take too long for the vultures to loose interest in him as a new celebrity turned up. Harry had never met the man before. Of course he knew who it was after all he had invested quite a bit of money in Stark Enterprises when then CEO Tony Stark announced that they would abandon the weapons production. But just like Harry, Tony knew exactly who had arrived just before him.

It was at the bar that Harry and Tony saw each other again. They had both come alone so it seemed that every unattached female in the room had tried to gain their attention. But unlike Harry who didn't want to look at them too closely Tony was known as a notorious womaniser. Therefore it was highly unusual that he didn't have a woman on his arm already. For a long moment the to men sat in mutual silence. It wasn't until both of them had ordered their second Whiskey that Tony broke the quiet: "Mr. Potter-Black, I wasn't expecting to see you here." Harry raised his eyebrow and just asked: "Is that so Mr. Stark? What were you expecting?" "The usual you know: married women, women who want to find a wealthy husband." They both chuckled into their tumblers. The two men talked for a while. They just covered the usual small-talk but somewhere along the line the two men had come to an unspoken agreement. While they wouldn't call themselves friends there was an understanding between Tony and Harry that is just rarely found. Hence it was really no surprise when they exchanged cards at the end of the night with plans to arrange a meeting for an in depth talk of a more sensitive nature than one could have on a social function. But when Harry and Tony would meet again it would be a lot sooner than anyone could have imagined.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello my lovelies. I am incredibly amazed about how well received my story is. I would have never expected it.**

 **So thank you for all the support and all the help you have given me in your reviews. So do me the favour and keep them coming.**

 **Disclaimer: I neither own Harry Potter nor the Avengers. I am just playing with the characters.**

Chapter 3

In the days following the charity event Harry noticed more and more problems with his magic. It wasn't that stopped to work but it seemed to spiked from time and time. At first Harry didn't worry about it since it didn't interrupt his day to day life but when the incidents started to become more and more frequent he realized that something was wrong.

It was the first time that it really hit him that he was the only one in this universe that was able to use magic. There was nobody he could ask, nobody that could help him figure out what was wrong. Harry stood behind his counter after closing time when the solution came to mind. As a nervous habit he had started to rub his rings. This was the only time it happened consciously. It was the ring containing the resurrection stone. The one ring that he would be able to call Death with.

That evening he hurried to clean up and raised up the steps to his living-room.

The probability that someone saw what he was up to in here was a lot smaller than down on street level. Harry took the ring of his finger which felt a lot smaller than when the ring was in its place. But right now the silver ring laid in his right hand. On the first glance it was nothing exciting. It was a plain silver band with a black stone. The only thing that was in any way remarkable where the fine white lines faintly etched into the stone.

It wasn't obvious. You had to know what you are looking for the see or recognise the symbol. It was a circle in a triangle which was split with a line from the top down. Of course Harry knew the symbol. But right now he had no time to marvel at the history of it. He closed his hand around the ring and turned it three times. Nearly immediately the temperature in his apartment seemed to drop. It wasn't anything drastic but Harry felt the chill seep into his bones as the dark entity appeared in the middle of his living-room.

" **Hello Master, what can I do for you**?", Death asked. He had the hood of his shadowy cloak pulled over his face. Just like the last time Harry had seen him he was only able to make out the green glowing eyes.

"I just have a question", Harry cleared up. Death nodded. His bony hand was wrapped around his scythe which he seemed to lean on.

" **Ask away**." He invited. Harry had the feeling that the entity would be telling him the truth, no matter what he asked but he was wary nonetheless.

"My magical ability seems to be growing. Do you know if I need to be worried about that?", Harry wanted to know but his worry vanished when he saw Death shake his head.

" **No, you don't need to be. That was expected. It just means that your magic is preparing itself to be used more often**." The explanation didn't do anything but arouse a new kind of worry in Harry. It was the same feeling he had every time something in the war was going to go south. The same feeling he had just before he went to his meeting at Gringotts.

"Is there going to be a reason to use my magic more often?" Harry asked. But Death just shrugged. He explained that because of Harry's history his magic was accustomed to the constant worry of the war in Magical Britain. Now, after a long period of peace his Magic was getting agitated, waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak. But Harry was done being surprised by new abilities.

"I never asked but what does being the Master of Death mean exactly?" Death just leaned himself back and a chair appeared behind him in which he descended gracefully. His scythe lay across his lap. He thought for a little while before he answered.

" **Well, there is a bigger magical ability in the first place. That is another reason why your magic is fluctuating lately. Than there is the fact that you are going to feel if there are a lot of people crossing over into the afterlife. Then while you can summon me with this ring you can use it to speak to people in the afterlife. They aren't going to stay here but they will be able to give you advise**." Harry just nodded. Those were as a matter of fact abilities he could work with. He would have been mortified if he could have killed people with just one touch or if he could have seen how long people had left in their life. But these abilities Death described to him were actually useful. He knew that if he knew about a threat he would do his best to help in any way he could. So being able to feel in advance when things are going to be going south was a great help. That is why he nodded and let Death be on his merry way. Now that he knew what was going on with his magic he was able to adjust to the situation.

Just a week later his magic was back to what it was before. The only thing that had changed was that were he had been tired when he had used his magic the whole day he now barely felt the strain on his magic. But just a week later he felt a consistent prickle on the back of his neck. He knew this feeling very well. It was kind of a sixth sense for him, the feeling of being watched but somehow he never managed to see the one following him. He knew that he had done nothing bad so the only reason he could think of being worthy of letting him be followed would be that somebody had found out about his magic.

After Harry had come to this conclusion he was constantly thinking about a situation when someone could have seen him use magic. He was careful to the point of being paranoid when and where he used his magic. But somehow he knew that things were going to get pear shaped very soon.

Just as he had imagined he was cornered just before closing time in his restaurant. He obviously knew that he had been watched but the people standing in front of him were a surprise after all he knew one of them. As a matter of fact it was someone he saw every day since the day his restaurant had opened.

"What can I do for you, Phil?", Harry asked. The red-headed woman who stood next to him looked at Phil questioningly.

"You gave him your name? Why did you do that?" You could hear the exasperation was clear in her voice but her face wasn't betraying anything.

"Well, I didn't know that he would become a person of interest did I?", Phil questioned. Harry stood patiently in front of them, looking from one to the other like it was a tennis match. They quarrelled for a little while before they remembered that he stood in front of him. Phil cleared his throat.

"My name is actually Phil Coulson. I am with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division", he explained. Harry raised a brow.

"That is quite the mouthful, isn't it." Where Phil was chuckling quietly the redhead just sighed.

"We get that a lot, actually", Phil explained. "That is why we call it S.H.I.E.L.D. This is Agent Romanov one of our best assets." Harry took the offered hand and placed his lips to her knuckles. He was glad that Andromeda had sat him down for a few lessons in behaviour. If the female Agent was surprised she didn't show it.

"What can I do for S.H.I.E.L.D. than?", Harry wanted to know. Phil pulled a barstool out from the counter and sat down.

"Let me tell you a story", he said.

"A few years back, there was an energy spike in an alley here in New York. But just a few seconds later it was gone again and we could find no proof that anything out of the ordinary happened. So you can understand our surprise when we found traces of the same energy source. And again it was here in the city. But this time, is was for a long enough time that our scientist could trace it back."

Harry swallowed. He knew where Coulson was going with this information. He didn't give the man a chance to finish his tale.

"Let me guess" Harry interrupted.

"You traced the source back to me." Coulson was clearly surprised that Harry as good as admit that he had something to do with this. Agent Romanov's face still didn't give anything away.

"Yes, we did" Coulson admitted.

"Can you tell us what this is about? What did you use to reach these energy levels?" Harry thought for a moment. These people were from a secret agency. The possibility that they would present him with any problems was slim to none. He was enthralled with the opportunity that he would have someone who knew about his magic, someone he could talk to this. So it was no hard decision to make to tell the two agents the truth.

"Well, to explain this would be incredible complicated. Let me just show you", he offered and waived them through to his kitchen. At this time there were no meals cooked and no pastries backed but the dishes which cleaned by themselves were a sight to be seen nonetheless. Finally Agent Romanov's face lost its incredible mask and the incredulity shown through. Even Phil, who Harry didn't know to be silent, didn't seem to be able to get out a word. Silently laughing Harry steered the two people from his kitchen and to his stairs.

"Let's go upstairs and talk. I should have a bottle of whiskey that I am going to need for this conversation." Agent Romanov had already snapped out of her astonishment and followed Harry up the stairs, her hand never leaving her hip. Harry knew enough about weapons two know that were he to look he would most definitely find a gun there. Since he made it his motto to never underestimate his possible opponents he knew that she would most definitely be a good shot.


End file.
